Broken (Book 1, The Watcher Chronicles, Paranormal Romance) (6 page)

I feel my hand involuntarily lower towards my plasma pistol on my right thigh.

“Can I help you?” I ask.

The man shrugs.  “I’m not sure.  Can you tell me what you are?”

I feel like pulling my pistol and shooting
the stranger for just asking the question.

“I’m afraid
I’m going to have to ask you to get off my property.  I don’t know you and I don’t care to.  Now please leave before I call the police.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he says.  I detect a slight Australian accent in his voice.
He makes a move to take a step forward, but I draw my pistol before he gets a chance to lift his foot.

He pulls his hands out of his
trench coat pockets and holds them up to show me he isn’t carrying anything.

“I’m not here to h
arm you in any way, agent,” he says.  “I just wanted to meet you in person.  It’s not everyday I find someone who can kill a demon without actually doing anything.”

I feel my heart start to race faster. 
How does he know what I did?

“Who are you?” I ask.

“You can call me Lucian.  Might I ask what your name is?”

“Agent Riley,” I say, not feeling like I should be on a first name basis with the man
standing in front of me.

“Well, Agent Riley, I can assure you that your pistol is not necessary.  I’m not here to harm you, just talk.”

“What do we have to talk about?”

“Well, I would certainly caution you about the company you keep.  Has Mason even told you what he is yet?”

“That’s not really any of your concern,” I say, realizing he’s hit on a sensitive point.

“No, it
’s not,” Lucian agrees, “but it is a concern for you.  I would find out who it is I’m associating with if I were you, Agent Riley.  And if he refuses to tell you, well, I guess that speaks for itself, doesn’t it?”

As if he sensed we were speaking about him,
Mason materializes beside Lucian holding my Kevlar vest in one of his hands.

As soon as the two men look at each other it’s like the night air is suddenly charged with electricity
.  Mason’s body tenses like he’s holding himself back from beating the other man to a pulp.

“Well, speak of the devil,” Lucian smiles at Mason
like he’s made a funny joke.  “I was just telling Agent Riley here that she should get to know the true you better, Mason.  How goes the search by the way?  Any luck?”

Mason’s jaw muscles tighten. 
“Do you really think I would answer that question?”

Lucian chuckles, but there’s no humor in it.  It’s more like he’s laughing at Mason, not Mason’s answer.

“And how about you?” Mason asks.  “Found what
you’re
looking for yet?”

Lucian’s smile
slowly disappears.  “Perhaps. 
Each new year brings it’s own small miracle, but I have a feeling this might be my year.  I’ll just have to see what tonight’s reaping has brought to me.”

“Well, I
would wish you luck but you know I wouldn’t mean it.”

“I could say the same old friend.”

“We were never friends,” Mason says in a low menacing voice.  “I don’t make friends with traitors.”

“Watch your tongue boy,
” Lucian’s voice booms, “or have you forgotten I can wipe out your existence with one touch?”

“If you’re scared of me, by all means do it and stop talking about it every time we meet,” Mason says.  “Your bluff has become a bore…what name are you going by now anyway?”

“Lucian.”

“Is that how you cho
ose the bodies?  Wasn’t there a Lucas once?  Why not just go by your real name?”

“Alas
, that name has been tainted by the monkeys on this planet.  Far too obvious and conspicuous now.”  Lucian turns to look at me.  “I must be saying goodnight, Agent Riley.  Unfortunately, our time together was cut far too short.  Perhaps next time we’ll have a chance to get to know one another a little better.”

Lucian phases, leaving Mason
and I staring at an empty space.

I slide my pistol in
to the holster on my thigh.

“Who was he?
  Another Watcher?” I ask.

“It’s a long story,” Mason says, looking up at me.

“I have coffee,” I say, turning back to my door silently inviting my very first Watcher into my home.

After I start a pot of coffee brewing in the kitchen, I find Mason in my living room looking at the Christmas tree set up in front of the large pained glass window which faces towards the backyard. 

“This doesn’t quite look like your taste,” Mason says, examining a
white crocheted angel, one of many, hanging on the tree.

“That’s because it isn’t.  Mama Lynn put it up for me.”

“She’s the woman who adopted you, correct?”

“Yes.
”

“You got lucky to find someone so generous.”

“I know.  A lot of Tear children ended up on the streets or worse.  I kinda hit the adoption lottery.  I’m not sure what would have happened to me if I’d been sent anywhere else.”

Mason turns to face me.  “Why
do you still live here?” He asks, his eyes travelling around my home.  “You’re a millionaire.  Why not live somewhere else?  And why did you choose to become a Watcher agent?  You obviously don’t need the money.  You could do whatever you want.”

“
I thought I was supposed to be the one digging for answers,” I tease, wondering why he’s asking me so many personal questions.  “Money can’t buy my parents back,” I say, deciding to answer his questions.

“What if you never get them back?” Mason asks.

I shrug.  “Then I don’t get them back.  But I have to try.  If I don’t try, I’ll always wonder if I could have done more.  I don’t want doubt following me around for the rest of my life.”

“How old were you when the Tear appeared?”

“Seven.”

“You seem wiser than most twenty-two year olds
I’ve met.”

“I think everyone became a little wiser when the Tear appeared.  We didn’t have much choice.  It was either learn how to deal with the change
s or go nuts.  Crazy doesn’t work for me.”

I hear the coffee pot buzzer go off and head towards the kitchen.

“How do you drink your coffee?” I ask.

“Black.”

While I’m in the kitchen, Mason asks, “Would you like me to start a fire in the fireplace for you?”

“Sure.  Matches are on the mantel in the silver box,” I call back.

I’ve never liked black coffee so I spend a little time adding in sugar and heavy cream to my cup.  By the time I get back to the living room, Mason is still crouched in front of the fireplace watching the flaming embers.  I walk up to him and hand him his cup.  After he takes it, he doesn’t make like he intends to move, so I sit down on the built up brick hearth and wait for him to speak.

“So, it
’s my turn to answer your questions,” he finally says, dragging his eyes away from the flames to my face.  “What do you want to know?”

“What are the Watchers?”
  I ask.  It’s a question the regular people of the world have been asking for fifteen years but no one has provided an answer.

“You’ll need to have an open mind about everything I tell you,” he says to me.  “
And everything I say to you can never be repeated to anyone else.  I must have your promise on that or I can’t tell you anything.  Can you make that type of promise to me?”

I nod slowly, not sure I like the way this conversation is starting.
  “I won’t tell anyone what you say to me.  You have my word.”

Mason nods his head indicating he believes my promise to him.

“The Watchers are angels.”

Mason pauses like he’s waiting for his statement to sink into my brain.

“So you’re telling me you’re an angel?  Like from Heaven?”

“Yes.”

If anyone else had made such a ridiculous statement, I would have told them to get the hell out of my house.  But, as I look at Mason, I know what he’s telling me is the truth, or at least the truth as he knows it.  If I allow myself to believe in angels and demons, I have to allow for the possibility of there being a God, something I’m not willing to believe in as fact just yet.

“So why are you here?” I ask.  “Why are you on Earth and not
Heaven?”

“
A long time ago, we were sent here by God to teach the human race,” Mason explains.  “We were supposed to act as your guides and observe your behaviors.”

“Supposed to? 
You make it sound like you failed.”

Mason look
s back into the fire, either unwilling or unable to meet my eyes.  “We did the one thing God forbade us from doing while we were here.  We married human women and attempted to have children with them.  We did it because we all yearned to have what human men had, a family of our own.”

“And I take it your
God didn’t like you doing what He told you not to?”

“No,
He most definitely did not.  We were exiled from Heaven because of our sin and forced to live here.”

“Was that so bad?” I ask
, not quite seeing that as a punishment.  “I mean you wanted to have families here, right?  If you didn’t have to go back to Heaven then you could just stay here and be with them.”

“Because of
what we did,” Mason says, his voice sounding haunted by his memories, “our families were made to pay the price.  When our wives became pregnant, the children within them consumed their bodies while they grew in their wombs, killing the mothers.  And after the children were born they were cursed to live a half life.”

“How?”

“I assume you’ve heard the legend about werewolves.”

“They’re real?” I ask, not hiding that I’m having a hard time believing everything Mason is saying.  But, I know it’s the truth.  I’
m usually good at telling when people are lying to me, Owen being the exception to that rule.  Even though everything Mason has said so far sounds outrageous, I know he’s telling me what he believes to be true.

“When the moon rises, the children of the Watchers
would turn into werewolves.  It wasn’t meant as a punishment for them exactly but for us, their fathers:  a daily reminder that we failed them.  That we shouldn’t have gone against God’s law.”

“So you lost your wi
ves and your children were cursed to be werewolves.  I’m afraid to ask but did your God do anything else to punish you?”

“We were also cursed with a
n insatiable hunger for human blood and designed to produce a pheromone which made it virtually impossible for us to be near human females without them becoming instantly attracted to us.”

“So
, are you telling me you’re a vampire?” I ask, feeling like I should go grab some garlic from the kitchen.

“It’s where the legend c
omes from.  Some of us were able to control the urge and some of us weren’t.”

“Which
side of that fence did you fall on?”

Mason grins grimly.  “I was able to control it, but it wasn’t easy.  I spent a lot of time alone with my son in the beginning.  Then as time went by, it became easier to be around humans again
, to live something which resembled a normal life.”

“And your
child?”

A genuine smile graces
Mason’s face.  “He was freed of the curse when the Tear was made.  He and Angela are married now and they have a family of their own.  They were granted human lives since neither Allan nor I let our children drink human blood during the time they shifted into their werewolf forms.”

“How did the Tear break
their curse?”

“
The Tear didn’t do it.  God did.  The Tear is a result of Lucifer trying to destroy the universe.”

“So, you’re not just telling me
God is real but that the devil is real too?”

“Yes
,” Mason pauses before saying his next words like he wants to make sure I hear them.  “You just met him.”

I sit there staring at Mason unwilling to swallow this last bit of information but knowing I have to.

“Lucian is the devil?” I ask, but already know the answer to my question.

“
Lucifer was able to find you,” Mason says gravely.  “We have to assume he felt your presence just like I did earlier this evening.  Now that he knows where you live, I felt you should know who he is because you
will
see him again.  He’s curious about you now and if there is one thing Lucifer can’t stand it’s not knowing everything about everything.  His presence is what made me decide to tell you the whole truth.  I didn’t think you would believe he was Lucifer unless you knew the complete story.  You did just tell me a couple of hours ago that you don’t believe in God, but I’m telling you He is real and Lucifer is real.”